The training field was quiet, the wind rustling through scattered moss and broken stones beneath Orario.
In the early light, Lefiya's breaths came heavy and measured as she finished a set of sprinting drills that Toji had laid out.
Her cheeks were flushed, her uniform sweat-stained. But there was something different in her now, a steadiness in her stance, an alertness in her eyes.
Toji stood a short distance away, arms crossed, watching her with narrowed eyes.
"You stopped hesitating." His voice was even, but the smallest uptick at the corner of his mouth betrayed something deeper. "Didn't trip over your own feet either."
Lefiya blinked, eyes wide. "W-Was that... a compliment?"
"Don't let it go to your head." He glanced away, but his tone lacked its usual bite.
Lefiya smiled, a little too brightly, before she remembered to scowl and cross her arms, imitating his usual nonchalance. "I'm not a kid, you know."
Toji grunted, pulling a cloth from his coat and tossing it at her face. "Wipe your mouth. You look like a mess."
Her cheeks puffed in embarrassment, but she obeyed, dabbing at her lips before following him as he turned to walk. "Where are we going now?"
"Food." He said it simply, already heading for a quieter side of the city, one where the lights weren't blinding and the crowd was thin.
There, in a tucked-away shop with barely a name, they sat together.
Lefiya tucked in with hunger she hadn't realized she had, while Toji sipped quietly at his broth, his sharp eyes watching her without really looking.
"You've changed," she mumbled between bites.
"So have you." He leaned back slightly. "But don't let that be an excuse to stop."
She looked at him, uncertain. "Why are you doing this? You're not... the type to care."
Toji didn't answer immediately.
He tapped a finger against the edge of the bowl, staring into the broth as if it held something lost.
His thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Megumi, not the adult, but the boy he had trained briefly, awkwardly, and then left behind.
The way Megumi had stood with that same stubborn tilt of the chin. The way he'd summoned shadows, flickering like dancing blades. The way he had grown without a father.
"...Maybe I'm just tired of getting it wrong," he said finally, quiet.
Lefiya paused, spoon halfway to her mouth. "Huh?"
He shook his head. "Nothing."
After the meal, they walked in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable.
It was... odd, how easily she fell in step beside him now.
Like something unspoken had begun to settle between them.
She glanced up at him once, catching the faintest shadow of something different in his expression, not warmth, not softness, but a kind of gravity she hadn't noticed before.
"Don't fall behind," he muttered.
"I'm not," she shot back, a little breathless but smiling.
Later that day, in a secluded clearing near the Dungeon's edge, Toji stood with his cursed tools laid out, his blades, his gun, the spear that defied magic.
But something else had begun to pull at him. A flicker in the shadows. A pressure in the air that hadn't been there before.
He crouched, one hand on the ground. The shadows thickened. Then, motion.
A beast-shaped mass erupted from his shadow, incomplete, blurry, but unmistakably real. A crude version of a shadow shikigami. His eyes narrowed.
Lefiya watched, stunned. "Wait... was that summoning magic?"
"No." His voice was flat, thoughtful. "It's not magic. It's... something else. Something I shouldn't be able to do."
He stood, facing her now. "You're good with theory. Walk me through this."
"M-Me?" Lefiya's voice jumped half an octave. "You want me to teach you?"
Toji crossed his arms. "You've got the brain for it. Use it."
And just like that, the dynamic shifted. Toji, the assassin who never once asked for guidance, stood before her, calm, open, listening.
Lefiya tried to organize her thoughts, her heart thumping. "O-Okay. If it's not magic but it still involves constructing and summoning forms, maybe it's closer to an ancient technique. You're shaping cursed energy into constructs... but it's not incantation-based. It's like, like invocation."
Toji raised a brow, intrigued.
She continued, fingers twitching with excited nerves. "You need anchors. Concepts. Conditions. Maybe... a mental image or contract. I think the shadow you summoned was reacting to instinct, but you can refine it. Try picturing something specific. Like a beast. Or a form you've used before."
He closed his eyes, letting her words wash over him. Slowly, deliberately, he summoned again.
This time, a more defined creature rose, a shadowy canine, its body low to the ground. It growled, flickered, then stabilized.
Lefiya gasped. "That's... incredible."
Toji opened his eyes. "Still weak. But it's a start."
She took a step forward, hesitating, then reached out and touched the shikigami's side. It shimmered under her hand, humming with potential.
"You're really not like anyone I've ever met," she whispered.
Toji grinned. "Good."
She laughed, surprisingly light. "And you're really not good at compliments."
He shrugged. "I give advice. That's better."
...
Even after the sun had dipped below the horizon and the city lights of Orario glowed in the far distance, the training clearing remained quiet, lit only by the faint flicker of conjured torchlight and the residual glow of Lefiya's magic stone lantern.
Toji knelt in the center of the space, his brow slightly furrowed, one hand resting against the ground.
"I want to see if I can pull out more than just one," he muttered to himself.
Lefiya watched from a few feet away, arms folded as she swayed on her heels. Her eyes were alert, curious, and, despite herself, a little eager.
There was something fascinating about the way Toji worked. No chants, no circles. Just control, willpower, and an eerie familiarity with combat-shaped energy.
He made a hand sign, something that automatically come to his mind, the knowledge of the technique.
A ripple passed through the clearing, like a black puddle stretching in all directions.
Suddenly, two smaller shadows burst out from behind him, fast, twitchy, and rabbit-like.
They spun midair before landing gracefully on their oversized hind legs.
Their ears twitched. Their forms were lean and compact, more cuddly than threatening.
One nuzzled Toji's arm. The other darted in a wide circle, kicking up dust with its playful hops.
Lefiya blinked. "Are those...?"
Toji stared at them blankly. "...Yeah. I didn't expect that."
The creatures, resembling exaggerated black rabbits with shimmery outlines and stubby claws, looked up at Lefiya with glowing eyes, inquisitive, almost childlike.
She knelt down slowly. "Can I...?"
Toji shrugged, as if to say not my problem.
One of the bunny shikigami hopped into Lefiya's lap without hesitation, its body weightless like mist but warm.
The other pawed at her boot before lying on its back, exposing a squishy belly for scratches.
Lefiya broke into a helpless, delighted giggle. "They're so... cute!"
Toji rubbed his forehead. "That's one word for it."
She looked up at him, eyes sparkling. "This one's nibbling at my ribbon! Hey—stop that!" The creature responded by burrowing under her cloak.
Toji gave a short exhale that might've been a laugh. "Didn't know cursed spirits could be like this too."
"You think they're cursed spirits?" Lefiya asked as she pet one.
"They're made of cursed energy," he replied, folding his arms. "But they feel... different. Calmer. Like I'm not forcing them to exist, like they're just... waiting to be called."
She glanced down at the rabbit shikigami curled against her. "Maybe because they want to follow you. They're loyal, like familiars. You said this came from your son?"
Toji's face darkened momentarily, but his voice remained even. "Yeah. It's his technique or 'skill'. I never had the aptitude for it. But now... I guess I'm making up for that."
He looked down at the bunnies. "Megumi had ten. I wonder if I can use them all."
Lefiya smiled faintly. "I think you will. You're... really good at this. At teaching too. I mean, sometimes you're the worst. But you're also patient in your own scary, intense way."
"...That a compliment or a complaint?"
"A bit of both," she admitted, laughing.
One of the bunny spirits jumped into Toji's arms.
He instinctively caught it, a bit stiff, like someone unused to holding anything soft and affectionate.
The creature stared at him, blinking slowly before tucking its ears back and settling against his chest.
He stilled. For a moment, his expression shifted, just slightly. A flicker of something in his eyes. Regret? Longing?
"...I don't deserve this," he muttered.
Lefiya tilted her head. "What?"
He didn't repeat himself. Instead, he gently placed the bunny back on the ground and stood. "That's enough testing for tonight."
But Lefiya caught his sleeve before he could walk off. "Hey..."
He looked back.
She hesitated, then gave a small smile. "Thank you. For showing me this. For trusting me to help. I... I'm really happy."
He stared at her, unreadable.
Then, a soft, rough hand patted her head. Once. Twice.
"Don't slack tomorrow."
Her face lit up like a spark stone. "Y-Yes, sensei!"
Toji winced. "Don't call me that."
But the corner of his mouth twitched as he walked off, shadows rippling behind him.
The bunny shikigami followed at a hop, until one stopped and looked back, its red eyes meeting Lefiya's, before vanishing into the ground like mist drawn into a tide.
And Lefiya, left standing in the flickering light, smiled to herself with a warmth she hadn't known she needed.
Somewhere between warrior and mentor, she was finding something else in Toji, a flawed but earnest effort at connection, and maybe, the fragile beginnings of trust.